


High Flight

by Tieleen



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-30
Updated: 2011-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-15 05:49:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tieleen/pseuds/Tieleen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But she saw the looks and heard the words, and more than anything it meant that here was someone who was not accustomed to faith; and whether or not he had proven unworthy of it to begin with, a lack of faith between dragon and rider was indeed a dangerous thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	High Flight

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Low Flight Risk](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/2369) by cupidsbow. 



> Long ago, [cupidsbow](cupidsbow.livejournal.com) asked for ficlet prompts. Mine was, _Dragon AU! Extra points if Ronon's dragon is unimaginably lame and makes him sad on a daily basis._ Because that's how I show my love to characters.
> 
> Then she did something amazing, i.e [this](http://cupidsbow.livejournal.com/308182.html#cutid5). And I was left thinking, what about John and Teyla? And so, this.

The first time Teyla is certain, truly certain, that John and herself are going to do well as a team, is when he first asks her to join him on his afternoon flight.

She hadn't been certain to begin with. She did not, as a general rule, listen to rumors, and when she did, she took care to treat them as such. But the one recurring theme in the reports that began to swamp her as soon as it was announced who she was to be matched with was the one quality many dragon riders dreaded most; he was a wild card, they said, unreliable. They did not need to say, he is an animal who remembers that he is an animal, and just like a human who always remembers he is a human, that is a dangerous thing in the sky. They did not need to say, diving down at a Wraith stronghold, you will never be able to completely believe - to completely trust - that he is another part of yourself, the other end of your motion wrapped in scaly skin. Codes come easily to those who live communicating through the pressure of knees and feet, through words shouted over the wind.

Elizabeth told her that he had been matched to several riders in the two years before, but she hadn't offered more details, and Teyla didn't ask. But she saw the looks and heard the words, and more than anything it meant that here was someone who was not accustomed to faith; and whether or not he had proven unworthy of it to begin with, a lack of faith between dragon and rider was indeed a dangerous thing.

They had killed the most Wraith per month of any duo in their squad - though this meant only a slight margin over Rodney and Ronon - had spent countless hours together, and had escaped certain death three times, before she was certain. There was always that certain something in his gaze; he had been polite enough to begin with, and the warmth in his eyes grew steadily with the passing days, but there was still that distance - they were different species, different beings, and he had no will to change this fact, not even for those few hours of mission when it was most necessary.

They had been in the air together often enough by that point; cruising idly on perimeter checks, shooting through the air like a gigantic, unlikely arrow, that strange cackle coming to her on the rushing wind that was the sound of dragon delight. But he took to the air again most days once their regular practice was done, more often than any other dragon in the squad (dragons did not, as far as she knew, spread rumors. But she had never seen any of the others take flight alongside him, had never seen him in any of the tumbling, looping groups crossing the skies in early evening. He was always one dot darting from tree top to cloud, accelerating in some opposite direction.) He had never before asked her to accompany him.

She would not be able to say what made her so sure that time, later; no one would ask, and this was just as well. He wasn't rushing for his life, or hers, or the mission, there was nothing at stake. He was rushing for the sake of rushing - for the sake of the wind in the lopsided triangles of his ears, for the moisture in the air trying and failing to cling to his scales, for gravity grasping for him from below and failing forever; for the chance to glance back so she would know to hold on and banking sharply, rolling more quickly than he had ever done on a mission, half a turn more than necessary and his tail slicing through sudden nothing.

It wasn't the same delight she knew, speed and success and the edge of desperation. This was pure joy, simple in its purity and more complex than anything that she would ever be able to grasp. He was forever some other species, some other being; they would never be one in the way you were taught was the only goal; and this was okay in a way she had never thought, would not have understood if another had explained. They were each of them in the flight, and they were together, and they were separate; she was certain.


End file.
